# Blackwood Manor Shorts



## Harlequin (Sep 29, 2009)

*Introduction*​There are a number of little stories or happenings from the Blackwood Manor universe which have nothing at all to do with the plot or characters of the Blackwood Manor Academy but have been written anyway. After tidying some of them up and writing others, I have decided to post them here. They are in no particular order - not chronological, not in order from first written to last, nothing. They will be posted in the order I post them, whether that's when they've just been finished or when I decided to post them.

They do not aim to explain events happening in _Firefly's Folly_ but rather hope to expand the universe and explain _other_ things about the Blackwood universe and the country of Spyr Darr (and its neighbouring nations). The events featured in these shorts will sometimes be happening concurrently with _Firefly's Folly_ but will more often be happening in the past or the future. 

For reference the_ present_ is roughly 1829 ADR. Anything set before this time is in the past. Anything set after _might_ be happening at the same time as _Firefly's Folly_ but then again it might not. It doesn't matter.

Perhaps you'll find it interesting. I know I do. Maybe you won't, and that's okay. There will rarely (if ever) be sequels and characters featured in one short will probably never be featured again.

I hope you enjoy.

*Table of Contents

*Summer 1828 ADR [A Vampire Hunts]
Winter 534 ADR [A Summoner Dies]​


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## Harlequin (Sep 29, 2009)

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]WARNING: THIS SHORT CONTAINS VAGUE NON-CONSENSUAL SEX. ALSO THE WORD "ORGASM".

Summer 1828 ADR[/FONT]
 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif][A Vampire Hunts][/FONT]​ 

 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The tall, skeletally thin woman leered at the man cowering before her, his pink face in contrast to her own deathly pale visage. Her face could have been beautiful once, though now it was gaunt and rotten in places. She looked at the trembling man with dull, yellow eyes and breathed at him. She wrinkled her nose slightly when a foul, hot smell rose up from near her feet. The man had vomited all over the floor, spattering her dress with the muck. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With a cold detachment and inhuman force the woman rammed the man against a large tree. Something cracked, and for a moment she wondered whether she had broken the man or the tree. She decided that it was of little importance; he was unconscious and she was hungry.[/FONT]


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]With a long, thick nail – hardened after her death and subsequent transformation – she sliced open the man's neck.[/FONT]


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Thick, red blood oozed from the wound and, her bloodlust ignited, she lowered her mouth hungrily to the wound and sucked. Warmth spread through her body to her limbs, setting of the raging sexual desire that accompanied a feeding. She was dimly aware of her hips thrusting and gyrating against the man's body, and even further from her mind was the scraping of her teeth against the wound. She was conscious, on some level, of the venom leaking from her mouth which would eventually infect the man with her vampirism. She was unable to care.[/FONT]


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Beneath the violent lust that had overtaken her body – both the vampire's bloodlust and the rather more mundane lust of her female body – she felt the man's hips shudder. The ghost of a smile graced her lips; she had forgotten the eventuality of the human orgasm, so long had it been since she had felt one. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]She sucked harder on the wound, her teeth opening it further, lapped ravenously at the blood spewing from the thin opening of flesh. The man struggled feebly, but she ignored it; it was natural that it try to prevent its life being taken, and it had not been unconscious for very long. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Upon her first feeding, she found herself unable to care – about feeding from humans, specifically, but about much of anything. Her memories of Before had grown hazier and hazier by the year, until at that point they were vague rememberings of a time long gone. Any discomfort had disappeared with that first feeding. The warmth ended, and she narrowed her eyes in confusion.[/FONT]


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]She lifted her head from the man – no, it was a corpse, she corrected herself absently, which meant that the blood had run dry. She looked down at her dress. Muddied and dirt-laden as it was, it was hard to miss the dark sheen of blood. She allowed the body to crumple to the ground and considered, briefly, allowing her venom to work, changing the man from a corpse into a dead-walker.[/FONT]


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]She did not. She moved forward quickly and tore the head from the body, dropping it a foot or so away. That was always the best thing to do, she knew, since humans liked to bury their dead, and got quite upset when they lacked heads. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]She heard voices moving through the forest and hissed. The villagers knew better than to follow a vampire; they tended to die. It would be the humans in black, the hunters who found and killed others of her kind. Ordinarily she would not care, save for that they were now hunting _her_. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]She turned and fled, not sparing a look at the corpse, running from the hunters. Fresh warm blood ran through her veins, and the curious burning lust still lingered deep in her body.[/FONT]


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## Harlequin (Oct 3, 2009)

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]WARNING: IF YOU FIND BLOOD DISTURBING UH THERE'S LOTS OF IT. ALSO THE WORDS "BODILY ORIFICES" IS USED.[/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT]
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif] [/FONT] 	 	 
[FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Winter 534 ADR[/FONT]

[FONT=Arial, sans-serif][A Summoner Dies][/FONT]​ 

 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The circle had been drawn. The dust had been cast. The blood had been spilt. She was naked, as the ritual demanded. It was the most ambitious summoning that a lone summoner had ever attempted. She would do it, and she would do well. She was Firefly: last descendants of Frostcunt and the oldest line of summoners in the world. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]She took a deep breath. Her sister did not know about her attempt; it would be stopped in its tracks if she had known. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The summoning platform under the Residence was only just big enough for the circle she had drawn, and she had had to prepare for weeks beforehand. The atmosphere in the underground was uncomfortably warm, but necessarily so. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]She tiptoed delicately through the thick layer of blood coating the pattern and stood at the centre of the circle. She picked up a blood-drenched orchid and threw it into the air, beginning the dance with the ease and grace of a summoner trained from childhood.[/FONT]


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The steps came easily. Harder was not slipping on the slippery coating of blood, and dancing her way through the three smaller circles with the correct steps. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The familiar twang of her power working, the rising of the blood in her veins, alerted her to her success. She stumbled, nearly missing the next step of the dance, as the bound guardian force Truli leeched power from her blood, and the room whirled around her.[/FONT]


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Two other guardian forces rose from the circles and surrounded her, vying for her attention with Truli. She gasped, falling to the ground, sliding across the wooden platform, her body slick with blood. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The dance had been completed before she fell, and the guardian forces swarmed around her. The guardian forces fused with her body, seeking the warmth in her veins. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The first thing she knew was cold. She did not _feel_ it, for she knew that she could no longer feel. The cold was not merely the absence of warmth. It was bone-deep, primordial. The coldness that existed in the demon realms that existed before existence and would go on existing long after everything else faded and died. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The second thing she knew was knowledge. Her mind had expanded past her human shell, and even as she learned new things she knew that her knowledge was not boundless. It was limited, almost woefully so.[/FONT]


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The third thing she knew was purpose. It penetrated deep, spread to every limb and lit her body on fire. A cold, dispassionate fire that burned only by the strength of her iron will. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]She rose from the floor. She crossed to the centre of the circle. She did not walk, but floated on the strength of the beings inhabiting her body.[/FONT]


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Light exploded from her every bodily oriface. Long, thick wounds opened all over her body. Blood flooded from every cut and dripped onto the circle, mingling with the blood of innocents, forcibly taken.[/FONT]


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]Her body, suspended over the platform, acted as a gateway. With the knowledge granted by the alien presences tearing her body to pieces, she knew what would happen: she was a literal gateway. Her limps were ripped to pieces by an invisible force, the pain worse than any she had ever felt in her life.[/FONT]


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]A limbless torso, out of her mind with pain, the guardian forces deserted her. Truli lingered for the briefest moment, crouched over her blood like a dog guarding its food. As insanity took its hold over her, the ethereal being faded out of the world as a monstros black form exploded from her abdomen. [/FONT] 


 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif]The house fell around her.[/FONT]
 [FONT=Arial, sans-serif][/FONT]


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